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I'noiogiapnic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

WIBSTIR.NY    MS80 

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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microraproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


o' 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notss/Notes  techniqu«3  et  bibliographlquas 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


y 


□ 


D 
D 


n 


n 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  d«  couleur 


r~~]    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagie 


□    Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur^e  et/ou  peiiicul^e 

I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.».  other  than  blue  or  black*/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illuatrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli*  avcc  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
dietorsion  !•  long  de  la  msrg«  intiriaure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  bean  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certainea  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte. 
mais,  lorsque  cela  itait  possible,  ces  pagas  n'ont 
pas  it*  fiimiea. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplimentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm*  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  ite  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplairi*  qui  sont  p^ut-itre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  una 
modification  dans  la  mithode  normaie  de  filmage 
sont  indiquis  ci-dessous. 


tc 


□    Coloured  pages/ 
Page*  de  couleur 

I — I    Pagas  damaged/ 


D 


n 


Pages  endommagies 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restauries  et/ou  pelliculies 


rrn    Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 


Pages  dicolories.  tacheties  ou  piquies 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ditachies 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Qualit*  inigale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  matiriel  supplimentaire 

Only  edition  availab'e/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


j~~|  Pages  detached/ 

r~n  Showthrough/ 

r~l  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

r~n  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

r~~]  Only  edition  availab'e/ 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc..  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiallement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  una  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  iti  filmies  i  nouveau  de  facon  A 
obtonir  Sa  meilleure  image  possible. 


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This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmi  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


2ex 


30X 


y 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


Tha  copy  filmed  h«r«  has  b««n  reproducacl  thanks 
to  tha  ganarosity  of: 

McLennan  Library 
McGill  Univenity 
Montreal 

Tha  imagas  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
posalbia  considaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spacificatlons. 


L'axamplaira  film*  fut  raproduit  grftca  h  la 
gtnAroaiti  da: 

McLennan  Library 
McGill  University 
Montreal 

Laa  imagaa  tuh^v^ntaa  ont  iti  raprodultas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin.  eompta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattat*  da  l'axamplaira  film*,  at  an 
conforniiti  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
fiimaga. 


Original  copiaa  in  printad  papar  eovars  ara  fiimad 
beginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  andinf  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  iiluatratad  impras- 
sion,  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  Ail 
othar  original  copiaa  ara  fiin^ad  beginning  on  tha 
first  psga  with  a  printad  or  iiluatratad  Impraa- 
sion,  and  ending  on  the  last  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Lee  exempiai-'ae  originaux  dont  la  couvarturo  en 
pepier  eat  imprimia  sont  fiimAs  9n  commenpant 
par  Ic  premier  plat  et  en  termlnant  soit  par  ia 
darnlAre  pege  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  au  d'iliustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  caa.  Tous  lee  eutres  exemplairee 
originaux  sont  filmte  an  commandant  par  la 
pramiAre  pege  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impreaaion  ou  d'iliustration  at  •n  termlnant  par 
ia  darnlAre  paga  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  laat  recorded  frame  on  eech  micrcfiche 
shell  contain  the  symbol  —»^( meaning  "CON- 
TINUED "),  or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  epplies. 


Un  dee  symbolee  suivants  apparettra  sur  la 
darnlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  >•*•  signifle  "A  SUiVRE",  le 
symbols  ▼  signifle  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  cherta,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  lerge  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  aa  many  frames  aa 
required.  The  following  diagrams  Illustrate  tha 
method: 


Lee  cartaa.  planchee.  tableeux,  etc..  peuvent  Atre 
filmite  A  dee  taux  da  rMuction  diff*rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  eet  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clich4,  ii  eet  film*  A  partir 
de  I'angle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite. 
et  de  heut  en  bas.  en  prenent  le  nombre 
d'imi^yes  nAceeeaira.  Lea  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrant  le  mAthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

I 


A.    #OE 


DESCraraVE  OF  COUNTRY  LIFE 


■A 


IK     THK 


PBOVIK^E    OF    NEW    BRXJKSW^ICK, 


3^adi^  y^au   cup^. 


NEW    YORK: 
I^ONARB  SOOTT  &  CX).,  38  WALKKR  ST. 


ABO*. 


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—   '  ■'"""   '"Miiiiii  III  III    'mmmmmmn^ifiii'miimn 


EARLY    EEimiSCENCES. 

% 

A   POEM, 

RECOUNTING   INCIDENTS   OCCURRING   IN  THE  YOUTH   OP- 

THE   AUTHOR. 

AND  DESCRIBING  COUNTRY  LIFE 

IN  THE 

PROVINCE  OF  NEW  BRUNSWICK, 

iTortB  Scare   ^go. 


By    LEONARD    SCOTT. 


"  I  stand  upon  my  native  hills  again, 
Broad,  round,  and  green,  that  in  the  summer  sky 
With  garniture  of  waring  grass  and  green 
Orchards  and  beechen  forests  basking  He." 

Brtaut. 


NE^W    YORK: 

Printed  by  the  -A-utthor  for  Private  Distribvition. 

1864. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  CongreM,  in  the  year  1864,  by 

LEONARD  SCOTT, 

In  tlie  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of 

New  York. 


To 


S.  OSAIOHEAD, 
Prtnttr,  Stereoiyper,  and  Elecirolyper,; 
fiCaitoit  I3uiltiin0, 

61,  S3,  mid  BS  Cniire  Strtil. 


n^m 


To    THE 

HON.    JAMES    BROWN,' 

LATE     SUBVETOR-OENERAL      OF     THE     PROVINCE      OP 

NEW     BRUNSWICK, 

I'o  whom  the  author  is  mdebted  for  his  early  education,  and  for  whom  he  still 
--    cherishes  the  most  sincere  feelings  of  gratitude  and  friendship, 


■*«« 


Mi 


PREFACE. 


The  scenes  and  incidents  described  in  the  following  verses 
are  taken  from  actual  life,  rarely  any  deviation  being  made  from 
the  facts  as  they  existed  or  occurred  in  the  places  and  among 
the  person  ic^es  mentioned.  The  home  of  the  writer's  family 
was  in  .j  ^  x*arish  of  St.  David,  Province  of  New  Brunswick, 
a  few  miles  distant  from  the  St.  Croix  or  Scooduc  river,  which 
separates  that  Province  from  the  State  of  Maine ;  and  it  is  wor- 
thy of  remark,  that  of  the  members  of  that  family — there  were 
thirteen  of  them — who  for  nearly  forty  years  resided  at  that 
home  or  in  its  immediate  vicinity,  not  one,  nor  even  the  descend- 
ant of  one,  now  remains  within  the  Province.  A  few  died  in 
their  native  land,  but  most  of  them  crossed  the  border ;  and 
they  and  their  descendants  have  so  scattered  themselves  over 
the  United  States,  that  there  are  but  few  of  the  Free  States  in 
which  they  are  not  now  to  be  found. 


,'r^  -' 


EARLY  REMINISCENCES. 


TO   BROTHER  THEODORE. 


As  old  age  advances,  full  often  I  think 
Of  the  life  that  we  lived  when  boys  ; 
And  I  long  once  more  at  the  fountain  to  drink 
■  Which  nourished  our  hopes  and  joys. 

Does  mem'ry,  Dear  T,,  ever  carry  you  back 

To  the  time  of  your  first  recollection, 
When  dressed  in  a  little  calico  sack 

Which  you  fancied  the  "  pink  of  perfection  " 

You  stood  by  the  side  of  your  mother's  arm-chair 

And  gazed  at  the  babe  in  her  lap. 
And  tenderly  touched  his  delicate  hair 

And  his  pretty  embroidered  cap  ? 

And  when  old  Bett^  P.,*  with  a  flourish  so  grand. 
Raised  her  black  little  brat  from  the  bed. 

Do  you  mind  how  you  stood  with  your  hammer  in  hand 
And  hit  it  a  crack  on  the  head  ? 

And  then  what  a  bawling  and  squalling  there  was 

By  the  child  and  its  terrified  mother ; 
And  little  you  cared  that  the  blow  was  the  cause, 

Being  ready  to  give  it  another  ! 

As  years  rolled  on,  nnd  to  boyliood  we  grew, 

llow  phiasant  a  lile  was  ours  ; 
With  joys  so  many,  and  sorrows  so  few, 

Our  pathway  seemed  strwvn  with  flowers. 

Blessed  by  a  father  whose  every  care 

To  the  good  of  his  children  was  given  ; 
Blessed  by  a  inother  with  virtues  so  rare, 

They  seemed  less  of  Eurtii  than  of  Heaven. 


♦  A  neighboring  i/os»y),  lor  whom  and  her  baiy  Thoodoro  had  a  most  decided 
disliko. 


■i 


8  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

With  bi'others  and  sisters  whose  hearts  to  our  own 

Were  bound  by  the  cords  of  affection ; 
With  neighbors  and  playmates,  and  good  Master  Brown 

To  give  to  our  studies  direction  ; 

With  just  enough  work  along  with  our  play 
The  play  to  enjoy  with  more  zest,  » 

And  cause  us  to  seek  at  the  close  of  the  day 
The  I'efreshment  of  innocent  rest. 


■ 


IIOMESTKAD — FRONT  VIEW. 

Will  you  ever  forget  the  homo  that  was  ours — 

The  house,  and  the  barn,  and  shed. 
The  garden  in  front,  with  its  border  of  flowers, 

And  the  lawn  where  wo  romped  and  played  ? 

You'll  remember  the  bed-room  wht'-'^,  nightly  we  slept, 

The  parlors,  the  kitchen  and  hall ; 
The  stairs  to  the  attic,  so  often  we  stepped, 

Each  floor,  and  each  ceiling,  and  wall; 

The  chimney  of  brick,  with  its  fire-places  wide. 
And  drafts  weaker  ujjwards  than  down  ; 

Whose  smoke  swill  descending  our  i)ationcc  oft  tried, 
And  kei)t  the  cook's  face  in  a  frown  1 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 


9 


i^^^*** 


HOMESTEAD — KEAU   VIEW. 

The  windows  so  low,  and  the  neat  pannel  doors, 
The  "  platform,"  the  door-steps,  and  entries  ; 

The  room  where  we  kept  all  our  family  stores, 
The  "  beaufat,"  the  "  dressers,"  and  pantries ; 

The  laundry,  and  sink- room,  and  passage,  and  porch, 

And  chamber,  or  attic  so  wide  ; 
And  dry  spacious  cellar,  with  pillar  and  arch, 

Well  lighted  from  every  side. 

And  the  dark  little  room,  with  curtains  close  drawn, 

Whicii  our  sister  so  long  occupied, 
That  she  oame  to  regard  it  a  world  of  her  own, 

And  cared  for  but  little  outside. 

Do  yon  not  often  think  of  the  hours  wo  spent 

By  the  side  of  that  invali<rs  bed,  , 

And  o'er  her  frail  form  so  eagerly  Itent 
To  lose  not  a  word  that  she  said  ? 

For  her  mind  was  well  stored,  and  it  gave  her  delight 

To  amuse  us  with  story  and  song; 
And  gladly  we'd  listen  from  morning  till  night, 

Nor  deem  that  the  time  was  too  long. 


4li. 


I ! 

lljl  * 


( ,■      8 


10  EARLY    KEMINISCENCES. 

A  poetess,  too,  in  her  sweet  simple  way, 

Her  verses  at  times  she'd  repeat ; 
And  whether  the  subject  were  solemn  or  gay, 

To  us  they  were  always  a  treat. 

And  those  she  regarded  as  worthy  of  note. 
And  thought  she  would  like  to  have  read. 

We  took  from  her  lips  and  carefully  wrote. 
As  we  sat  by  the  side  of  her  bed. 

You'll  remember  her  trunk  and  its  little  round  cover, 

With  keepsakes  and  relics  so  rare. 
And  how  she  would  count  them  all  over  and  over 

To  see  the  full  number  was  there. 

That  trunk  has  become  now  a  relic  itself,    , 

Its  years  being  three  score  and  ten  ; 
There  it  quietly  rests  on  my  library  shelf, 

And  seems  to  give  thought  to  my  pen. 

You'll  remember  the  old  house,  the  house  of  our  birth, 
Whence  came  the  tirst  pleasures  we  knew, 

And  which  when  too  old  to.be  longer  of  worth 
We  left,  and  removed  to  the  new. 

Its  walls  of  square  timber  were  put  to  good  use 

In  building  our  long  wooden  shed, 
And  they  furnished  our  neighbor  abundant  excuse 

For  the  humorous  verses  he  made 

When  called  on  to  give  the  new  structure  a  name. 

As  the  rule  of  the  country  required, 
Handhig  down  both  the  building  and  owner  to  fame 

Full  as  great  as  the  latter  desired  ; 

The  strange  metamorphosis  thus  brought  about, 

Explaining  with  rare  illustration  ; 
Describing  the  old  building,  inside  and  out. 

And  naming  the  imo  "  transmigiatiou."* 


*  The  name  rnn  tlius : 

"  When  Undo  Murk  did  first  begin 
To  ouUivato  iii8  fiirm, 
He  from  this  timber  built  a  house 

To  keep  hiw  cliildron  wnrm; 
Ho,  nfter  miiny  yents,  grow  rich, 
And  that  line  house  lie  rnndc, 
And  tiien  the  old  house  ho  pulled  down 

And  with  it  built  this  shed. 
01'..  nmy  this  building  uwlul  prove 
In  its  new  situiition, 
%  Av.d  e.ovv    i.ci  v.'.v.wo-  it  If  vou  *>le£l^O^ 

We'll  call  it  "  Trunsniigration.' 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES, 


11 


And  do  you  remember  how  all  winter  long 

We  labored  both  t-arly  and  late, 
The  sheep  and  the  cattle,  and  horses  among, 

And  dealt  out  the  fodder  they  ate? 

The  barn  where  they  dwelt  was  a  monument  grand 

Of  the  carpenter's  genius  and  skill, 
Who,  with  care  and  good  judgment,  conveniently  planned 

Each  part,  its  due  purpose  to  fill. 

For  the  oxen  and  cows  there  were  stanchel  and  stcdl. 

For  the  horses,  warm  stable  and  crib, 
And  scaffolds  above,  by  the  side  of  each  wall, 

Extending  to  rafter  and  rib. 

Between  high  partitions  the  barn-floor  was  laid, 

On  which  all  our  threshing  was  done ; 
And  in  a  cold  corner  the  sheep-fold  was  made. 

Which  got  little  warmth  from  the  sun. 

'Twixt  these  was  the  ground-mow  for  storing  our  hay — 

And  many  a  ton  it  contained. 
And  on  it  we  boys  used  to  wrestle  and  play 

When  once  its  broad  surafnit  was  gained. 

The  hifxh  folding  doors  opened  out  to  the  sun. 

But  the  smaller  oii'^s  moved  on  a  slide^ 
And  when  they  got  stucJc^  as  was  ofcen-times  done. 

Our  temper  became  sorely  tried  ; 

For  pulling  and  pushing  were  equally  vain  ; 

So  after  our  patience  was  gone, 
"W G  pounded  ihQxxx  into  their  places  again, 

With  the  poll  of  an  axe  or  a  stone  1 

The  long  wooden  "  shed,"  of  the  "  porch  "  an  extension, 
Had  "  wagon-house,"  "  work-shop,"  and  ''  pen,"  "^ 

And  other  conveniences  scarcely  worth  mention, 
Though  important  they  seemed  to  us  then. 

In  the  work-shop  were  fashioned  our  sleds  and  our  yokes^ 

And  tools  for  the  farm  or  the  road. 
And  even  cnrUoheels,  with  theii  fmbs  and  their  spokes, 

Though  ma4c  in  a  primitive  mode. 

'Twas  hero,  tco,  the  making  ofshiuf/les  was  done 

By  the  blaze  of  the  broad  open  Hre — 
But  of  this  occupation  I'll  say  more  anon, 

When  ascendiuf?  to  themes  somewhat  hiirher. 


*^ 


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12  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

In  the  room  that  adjoined,  for  the  pigs  was  prepared 

Their  nutritive,  savory  diet, 
In  wiiich,  when  invited,  they  eagerly  shared, 

Not  needing  much  coaxing  to  try  it. 

And  do  you  remember  the  deep,  narrow  well. 

With  its  stones  moss-covered  and  old, 
Its  sides  walled  round  like  a  dark  prison  cell, 

And  its  water  so  limpid  and  cold  ? 

And  the  lofty  well-pole  so  conveniently  planned. 

In  its  mission  as  seldom  to  fail. 
When  it  dived  down  below,  as  if  done  by  command, 

And  returned  with  the  full  dripping  pail  ? 

In  shape  it  resembled  a  huge  "  figure-four  " 

Upraised  to  a  high  elevation. 
And  when  in  full  motion,  it  creaked  like  a  door 

Whose  hinges  required  lubrication. 

And  now,  brother,  tell  me,  where'er  you  may  roam, 

If  landscapes  more  charming  are  seen 
Than  the  hills  and  the  mountains  surrounding  our  home, 

And  the  deep  Avooded  valleys  between. 

And  the  broad  te^  ung  fields  with  flowei's  so  gay, 

And  farmers  eiigaged  at  their  toil, 
And  rich  growing  crops,  that  in  fulness  repay 

The  labor  bestowed  on  the  soil. 

And  the  clear  running  streams,  and  the  smooth  mirrored  lakes 

Kichly  fringed  with  the  hemlock  and  pine. 
And  the  lieath  that  from  solitude  seldom  awakes 

Or  of  life  gives  a  visible  sign. 

And  the  glimpse  that  we  catch  of  the  waters  that  flow 

The  great  rival  nations  between, 
On  whose  rolling  tide  as  they  pass  to  and  fro, 

The  white  sails  of  commerce  are  seen. 


CHILDISH    AMUSEMENTS   AND    OCCUPATIONS. 

And  do  you  remember  how  often  we  strolled 

Through  j);istures  and  meadows  so  green, 
And  for  our  amusement  what  stories  we  told 


-Of  things  never  licard  of 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

What  fanciful  names  to  each  other  we  gave, 

And  thus  our  own  heroes  were  made, 
And  peopled  with  characters,  sportive  or  grave, 

Some  mountain,  or  valley,  or  glade  ? 

And  improvised  houses  from  stones  and  from  sticks. 

On  the  bright  sunny  side  of  a  hill, 
And  topped  out  their  chimneys  with  bits  of  old  bricks, 

With  great  architectural  skill  ? 

And  then  when  the  sun  his  meridian  gained, 

How  gladly  we  answered  the  call. 
And  ran  with  a  swiftness  not  easy  restrained, 

To  the  dinner  awaiting  us  all  ? 

And  when  to  the  woods,  at  the  close  of  the  day. 
For  the  cows  we  were  sent  to  make  search  ; 

How  we'd  stop  to  pick  berries,  and  flowers,  by  the  way, 
Or  twigs  from  the  sweet-scented  birch  f 

And  oft  we  would  catch,  with  a  listening  ear. 

The  sound  of  the  tinkling  bell. 
But,  what  its  direction,  was  not  always  clear. 

On  our  senses  so  faintly  it  fell. 

But  once  the  whole  herd  fairly  started  for  home. 
With  the  bell-cow  in  front,  as  their  leader, 

We'd  climb  up  a  tree,  and  pick  mother  a  broom 
From  the  boughs  of  the  hemlock,  or  cedar. 

And  when  to  the  yard  they  were  all  gathered  in, 

Their  lacteal  treasures  to  yield, 
Their  bellowing  progeny  making  a  din, 

As  they  raced  through  the  neighboring  field. 

Would  rush  to  the  gate,  or  the  bars,  in  a  crowd, 

With  a  prolonged  and  piteous  cry, 
And  clamor  in  accents  discordant  and  loud. 

For  their  share  of  the  precious  supply. 

Now  the  pretty  milk-maid  comes  tripping  along. 

Her  clean  wooden  buckets  to  fill, 
Keeping  time  by  her  stop  to  the  snatch  of  a  song. 

And  her  labor  begins  with  a  will. 

The  milk  swift  descending  in  copious  streams 

By  rosy-tipped  fingers  persuaded — 
All-around  us  with  lite  and  activity  teems, 

Till  day  into  twilight  is  faded. 


13 


m 


!  ' 


14  EAELY    REMINISCENCES. 

The  maiden's  work  done,  her  burden  she  bears 
To  the  Butfry  so  cool,  and  so  sweet ; 

There  she  does  up  the  rest  of  her  dairy  affairs. 
While  we  to  our  slumbers  retreat. 

Oh !  I  long  to  be  back  on  that  dear  old.  farm. 
And  again  feel  the  bright  glow  of  health, 

Giving  joy  to  my  spirits,  and  strength  to  my  arm, 
Blessings  more  to  be  envied  than  wealth. 


DANGEROUS   SPORTS   AND   SCHOOL-DAY  EXPERIENCES. 

And  do  you  remember  what  good  times  you  Iiad 

In  hunting  up  subjects  for  fun, 
In  climbing  up  trees,  at  the  ri-':  of  jiour  head, 

Or  shinning  them  down  on  the  run  ? 


4f) 


U 


How  you  scaled  the  steep  roof  of  the  lofty  old  barn 

To  get  a  good  look  at  the  sea, 
And  cared  not  a  fig  for  the  clothes  you  had  torn, 

But  shouted  with  infinite  glee  ? 

And  your  teeter  so  grand  on  the  old  well-sweep, 
Which  proved  to  be  not  very  sound. 

For  when  to  tho  end  yoti  had  managed  to  creep 
It  broke— and  youjVll  to  the  ground  t 


EABLY    REMINISCENCES, 


15 


You'll  remember  the  day  that  we  first  went  to  school- 

The  scene  is  before  me  e'en  now — 
When  the  master  laid  down  his  imperative  rule 

As  to  making  our  entrance  bow. 

And  how  into  classes,  according  to  age, 

And  the  studies  they  had  to  pursue, 
He  divided  hib  scholars — to  each  gave  a  page, 

And  directed  what  each  had  to  do. 

When  organized  thus,  to  their  places  assigned. 

And  commanded  to  study  aloud — 
Ye  gods  !  the  vile  music  street-organisto  grind, 

Or  the  thunder  from  out  of  a  cloud. 

Were  soft  and  seraphic  compared  to  the  noise 

That  alarmingly  broke  on  our  ears — 
The  scream  of  the  girls  and  the  shout  of  the  boys, 

All  tending  to  quicken  our  fears. 

But  in  time  we  got  used  to  these  terrible  sounds, 
That  they  were  such  became  quite  insensible, 

And  when  they  were  kept  within  moderate  bounds, 
We  found  them  almost  indispensable. 

The  master,  amid  all  the  din  and  discord, 

A  survey  of  his  scholars  would  take — 
He  somehow  appeared  to  hear  every  word 

And  was  quicK  to  detect  a  mistake. 


h 


16 


IS 


M^ 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

And  do  you  remember  the  books  that  we  used— 

lo  reckon  their  number  were  easy 

And  the  master's  fierce  frown  when  the  leaves  got  abused, 

Ur  the  covers  disfigured  and  greasy  ? 

Tliere  was  "Webster,"  in  which  we  were  first  taught  to  spell, 
When  we'd  once  of  our  »  abs  »  got  the  better, 
xT     L  ^^^  learned  also  to  read  very  well, 
A  ot  havmg  to  spell  out  each  letter. 

In  that  famous  old  bo'.k  some  good  stories  were  told 

Called  fables— their  number  was  eight— 
Ut  the  rude  wicked  boy  who  for  impudence  bold 

VV^as  brought  from  his  lofty  estate ; 

Of  the  country  milk-maid,  who  with  toss  of  her  head 

-rut  on  mrs  unbecoming  her  station 
And  upsetting  her  pail,  the  poor  silly  female 

liost  the  bliss  of  her  fancy's  creation. 

And  the  treach'roos  alliance  between  the  two  friends. 

Who,  while  walking,  encountered  a  bear, 
Whose  whispering  counsel  made  ample  amends 

lo  the  man  that  with  tact  so  rare 

Pretended  to  Bruin  he  surely  was  dead, 

-iT-i  M  *i°  ^®^^  ^^^y  plainly  could  see, 
\V  hile  his  coward  companion  inglorious  fled 
lo  the  top  of  a  neighboring  tree. 

And  Reynard,  the  fox,  who  got  into  a  scrape 

In  the  course  of  his  sl>  stealthy  rambles, 
Yet  thought  himself  safer  in  tail  and  in  nape 

Than  if  helped  to  escape  from  the  brambles. 

And  the  cunning  device  of  the  hungry  cat. 

So  skilled  in  deception  and  fraud, 
Who  made  so  much  havoc  with  mouse  and  with  rat 

Ihat  none  dared  to  venture  abroad. 

The  plan  of  suspending  herself  by  the  tail 

Proved  to  Puss  a  most  capital  hit, 
BiJ  the  trick  of  the  meal-tub  was  destined  to  fail, 

if  or  the  bait  wouldn't  take— not  a  bit. 

A  rat  of  experience  gave  his  advice. 

And  said  in  the  meal  he  could  smell 
A  something  that  neither  by  rats  nor  by  mice 

He  was  siwe.  would  be  relip^hed  so  well.       ' 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

And  the  terrible  fate  that  befel  poor  dog  Tray 

For  choosing  a  niastiif  as  friend, 
Who  attacked  every  cur  that  he  met  on  the  way, 

In  a  manner  quite  sure  to  oftend. 

And  the  case  of  the  ox  that  was  gored  by  the  bull. 

And  the  logic  the  fanner  applied 
To  the  lawyer — who  though  he  had  laid  down  a  rule, 

By  the  same  now  refused  to  abide. 

These  tales  we  enjoyed  with  infinite  zest. 

But  their  "  morals  "  we  voted  a  bore, 
Regarding  them  only  as  being  a  test 

Of  our  patience  in  reading  them  o'er. 

It  is  now  thirty  years  since  the  book  I  have  seen 
Which  contained  these  remarkable  treasures. 

But  its  stories  are  yet  in  my  memory  green, 
And  are  still  not  the  least  of  my  pleasures. 

As  companion  to  this  we'd  a  book  that  defined 

Each  word,  after  once  it  was  spelled. 
And  as  the  school  boasted  but  two  of  this  kind. 

These  in  high  estimation  were  held. 

"  Guy's  New  British  Spelling-Book  "  followed  in  course. 
From  its  pages  mud  knowledge  we  gained. 

But  it  never  afforded  that  ready  resource 
To  be  found  in  the  twr»  I  have  named. 

And  the  old  "English  Reader,"  the  pride  of  the  school. 

With  selections  from  writers  of  fame. 
Where  on  every  page  was  a  precept  or  rule, 

And  where  naught  was  insipid  or  tame. 

There  were  pieces  '■'■pathetic''''  and  pieces  "  didactic," 

And  pieces  in  verse  and  in  prose, 
There  were  some  "  dialectic,"  and  others  "  dramatic  " — 

All  good^  as  the  reader  well  knows. 

And  the  "  Sequel,"  too,  with  the  old  "  Introduction," 
"  Scott's  Lessons  "  a  grade  somewhat  higher, 

The  bulky  "  Prece})tor"  replete  with  instruction 
And  tales  that  seemed  never  to  tire. 

And  "  Morse's  Geography,"  giving  the  clue 

To  countries,  and  cities,  and  towns. 
Their  statistics,  and  so  forth,  in  n.     bers  not  few. 

Their  size,  their  location,  and  bounds. 


17 


18  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

And  "  Dabol'%  Arithmetic"  closing  the  list, 
Whose  pages  possessed  f^w  attractions, 

Where  we  cudg»;lled  our  brains  till  they  got  in  a  twist 
In  our  struggles  with  figures  ami  fractions. 


JfAMES   AND   CHAEACTERISTICS   OP  THE   SCHOLARS. 

And  do  you  remember  the  scholars  by  name 

Who  culled  from  these  books  so  much  knowledge, 

Some  of  whom  have  acquired  as  enduring  a  fame 
As  if  taught  in  a  high-school  or  college  ? 

There  were  Albert  and  Edwin,  our  rivals  in  study. 
With  whom  we  strove  hard  to  keep  pace  ; 

And  there  was  Jim  Davis,  with  brains  rather  muddy 
And  good-natured  meaningless  face. 

And  Hannah,  and  Cynthia,  and  Lydia,  so  fair. 

Most  diligent  scholars  all  three,' 
And  Jerry,  and  Joel,  with  talents  so  rare 

Their  equals  you  seldom  would  see. 

And  Mark,  who  cared  less  for  his  book  and  his  school 

Than  he  did  for  his  dog  and  his  gun, 
And  Ansley,  deliberate,  thoughtful,  and  cool. 

Yet  still  always  ready  for  fun. 

And  Louisa  Smith,  and  her  namesake  as  well, 

And  Thankful,  and  Rhoda,  and  Jane, 
The  McLaughlens  who  aided  our  numbers  to  swell, 

Though  failing  high  honors  to  gain. 

And  Hannah,  and  Jane,  and  Mariner  Shaw — 

The  latter  the  butt  of  the  school- 
But  who,  though  ungainly,  and  awkward  and  raw, 

Was  counted  by  no  means  a  fool. 

And  Harris,  and  Daniel,  at  school  now  and  then, 
Their  duties  at  home  interfering. 


Which  made  them  less  ready  with  pencil  and  pen 
Than  with  chopping,  d^ndi  fencing,  and  clearing. 

ArA  Walter  the  pugilist— Edward  and  Miles, 
And  Jeannie,  their  keen,  black-eyed  sister. 

Whose  bright,  sunny  face— all  dimplas  and  smiles- 
Played  the  deuce  with  the  fellows  who  kissed  her. 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES.  19 

And  noisy  Jim  Collins,  and  Davis  Mid  John, 

Tryphenia  with  white  flaxen  hair, 
And  Betsy,  whom  Mark  set  his  young  heart  upon 

But  only  to  fall  in  a  snare  ; 

For  tall  Moses  Reed — his  rival  and  friend — 

Walked  straight  into  Betsy's  affections, 
Nor  deigned  to  give  Mark  the  accustomed  amende 

Or  to  heed  his  protests  and  objections. 

And  Abigail  Collins  and  queer  little  Dan, 

And  Joseph  and  dark  Jacob  Reed, 
And  Valentine  Sharman  and  lubberly  Sam, 

Less  fond  of  his  book  than  his  feed. 

And  Sarah,  and  Susan,  and  Hannah,  and  Steve, 

Young  Allen  McDougal,  and  Sandy, 
From  whom  'twas  my  fate  sundry  knocks  to  receive. 

By  no  means  so  pleasant  as  handy. 

And  the  Sharmans  who  came  from  helow  Tower  Hill — 

Rough  Harris,  dark  Ann,  and  Serene — 
And  another  one  still,  I  believe  they  called  Will^ 

Whom  his  school-mates  pronounced  rather  green. 

And  laughing  Joe  Connick,  and  ^^ay  'Liza  Moore 

And  other  occasional  scholars, 
And  noisy  Frank  Foster,  and  grave  Theodore, 

More  properly  classed  among  callers. 

You'll  remember  the  spot  where  the  old  school-house  stood — 

I  fancy  I  see  it  there  ptill — 
Overlooking  the  meadows,  the  pasture  and  wood. 

From  the  top  of  Eliphalet's  Hill. 

Though  substantial  the  structure,  'twould  fail  to  command 

Much  praise  from  fastidious  people. 
For  its  walls  were  not  lof^y,  its  roof  was  not  grand. 

And  it  had  neither  beltry  nor  steeple. 

Its  architect  certainly  showed  his  good  sense 

In  placing  it  close  to  the  ground, 
For  of  foundati'   .  pillars  it  saved  the  expense, 

And  it  could  not  be  easy  blown  down. 

Its  square  littl*^.  windows,  whi^h  numbered  but  four. 

Served  the  cw  and  the  sunlit,  it  to  guide, 
There  was  one  where  the  master  sat,  two  by  the  door 

And  one  on  the  opposite  side. 


20 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 


r  ! 


-'^^N.VNvV..^^ 


It  was  gracea  by  no  ornament,  slender  or  stout, 
A  o  picture  of  martyr  or  saint, 

Ut  even  the  commonest  paint.  ' 

"^TW -^  fY  f  '^'-""'"''^  ^^«  ^''"'t  at  one  end, 
But  It  ooked  qmte  as  mucli  like  a  tomL       * 

Am  up  tliKs  the  smoke  was  s^^pposed  to  ascend 
Lut  as  often  came  out  in  i  heroom  I 

About  this  same  chimney,  so  ugly  and  old 
Tins  wonderful  structure  of  stone,  ' 

ZV^'!iT^7  -^  ^••^Pital  story  was  told 
Ul  (xdlilamVs  ley,  which  had  grown 

So  tight  to  the  roof  whore  the  chimney  ca.ne  throui?h 

Till  L'l!'/'^  ""'''"'  ^V'  "J^  "'^'-  ^'^  ^^-^vn,  '"^^'' 

liH  luckily  came  to  his  timdy  rescue 

Jnn  Davis  and  g..od  Master  lirown.* 


ting  on  tho  roof  with  his  \.^  h^n ; £  iow°  „;:,';  *;,::•',•  '■"''"•"'■  ^^■''"  ^^-"^  ^'' 

res  od  in  .mh  work  as  to  (o,J,.t  hiiusfh'  a  .    w  k  '      •  '"'''  ''*''""'""  »"'  "'"'•''  "'t^- 

he  had  inasonod  hi  his  Jokh  so  t    ,     ,  'n      .  '""  '^^'""'"^T  ^"8  UniMhed  ii.-  f.nind 

0?  course,  whh  the  /;,w„m,«  .'nilo  'any  '""''^  ^*-''-*"  ^""^"'*^  "l"     ^illil""U, 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

By  the  side  of  this  chimney  a  square  little  room 

Excluding  the  light  and  tlie  noise, 
Was  used  as  a  place  for  the  poker  and  broom, 

And  for  turbulent  mischievous  boys. 

The  school  furniture  may  be  easily  named, 

Consisting  of  desks  high  and  low, 
And  rickety  benches  most  clumsily  framed, 

Worth  little  for  use  or  for  show. 

Despite  these  hard  benches  and  comfortless  desks. 
In  our  studies  swift  progress  we  made, 

For  with  diligence  most  of  us  stuck  to  our  tasks^ 
Each  striving  to  get  to  the  head. 


21 


"  INSPECnON  DAY." 

You  will  never  forget  our  Inspection  day, 
Nor  the  hopes  and  the  fears  it  inspired, 

Nor  our  desperate  efforts  to  make  a  display 
Of  the  learning  that  each  had  acquired. 

* 

How  we  studied  our  lessdns  till  late  in  the  night, 
^^  Long  after  the  hour  to  retire, 
Tliough  oftentimes  favored  with  no  better  light 
Than  the  flickering  blaze  of  the  fire. 

When  the  long  looked-for  day  was  at  length  ushered  in, 

Ihe  district  was  all  in  commotion, 
A  mighty  upheaving  was  everywhere  seen. 

Like  the  uneasy  swell  of  the  ocean. 

Anxious  mothers  flow  round  with  purpose  intent 

To  deck  out  tlioir  darlings  in  sjdendor, 
Not  a  garment  was  used  with  a  i)atch  or  a  rent 

For  the  boys  or  i\w  feminine  gender. 

And  then  there  wore  presents,  or  prizes,  in  view, 
^  For  diligent  scholars  intended. 
For ^all— from  the  least  to  the  greatest— well  know 
Tti^enty  shillings  liad  thus  been  expended. 

Tiiere  were  books  of  all  sorts  for  boy  and  A)r  girls. 

To  amuse,  to  instruct,  and  to  please, 
And  jack-knives,  mul  penknives,  and  pencils  and  toys— 

Am  to  co!iie  thfoiigli  tho  Parish,  Trudtees, 


22  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

Now  when  these  Trustees  their  appearance  first  made, 

Tore  whom  we  must  pass  in  review, 
Over-awed  by  their  presence,  our  confidence  fled, 

And  vanished  the  little  we  knew. 

But  inspired  by  the  teacher,  oiir  courage  returned. 

And  bravely  we  sprang  to  our  places, 
While  fired  by  ambition  our  youthful  hearts  burned. 

And  "  Excelsior  "  was  marked  in  our  faces. 

Then  commenced  the  fierce  struggle  to  see  who  would  spell. 

Till  all  having  Tiissed  should  sit  down. 
For  to  him  who  thus  conquered  'twas  known  very  well 

Would  come  prizes  and  fame  through  the  town. 

You  "will  doubtless  be  able  to  call  to  your  mind 

The  match  between  Joel  and  me — 
A  taller  than  Joel  you  scarcely  would  find, 

While  i"  scarcely  reached  to  his  knee. 

It  ill  becomes  me  to  record  of  the  two  ' 

Which  finally  got  the  last  word, 
But  David,  you  know,  great  Goliath  once  slew. 

And  from  this  may  the  fact  be  inferred. 

And  then  what  a  shouting  and  stamping  of  feet 
Shook  the  walls  and  the  ceilings  and  floors. 

And  the  boys  from  the  house  made  a  hasty  retreat 
To  give  vent  to  their  feelings  out-doors. 

Jake  Reed  caught  me  up  in  a  transport  of  joy, 

And  carried  me  all  round  the  yard, 
Wliilo  my  school-mates  declared  me  a  brave  little  boy, 

And  otherwise  showed  their  regard. 

Even  Jofl  himself  withheld  not  his  praise, 

For  though  beaten,  he  still  felt  a  pride 
That  his  jorecocious  brother  might  one  of  these  days 

The  summ.c  of  knowledge  bestride  ! 

But  ajorecocious  child,  as  we  very  well  know, 
For  the  fact  we've  observed  more  than  once, 

On  arriving  at  manhood  is  too  apt  to  grow 
To  be  either  a  fool  or  a  dunce. 

The  boys  were  called  in,  and  a  class  to  define 

Was  the  next  ordered  uj)  on  the  floor, 
When  we  formed  in  a  long  setni-circular  line, 

And  the  contest  commenced  as  before. 


%- 


ade, 


3d, 

)uld  spell, 
well 


EARLY    EEMINISCEN-CES. 

At  first  all  went  ou  doing  equally  well, 
As  page  after  page  was  gone  through  ; 

But  before  very  long  it  was  easy  to  tell, 
As  the  lessons  more  difficult  grew, 

We  boys  would  again  have  the  battle  to  fight 

In  a  contest  between  one  another ; 
So  it  proved— for  the  rest  were  at  length  put  to  flicrht 

And  brother  again  strove  with  brother.  " 

This  time  there  were  three  of  us,  Ansley  and  you, 

And  I,  sure  of  conquest  again, 
Alas !  rather  too  sure,'  for  careless  I  grew 

And  was  soon  counted  out  with  the  slain. 

The  struggle  went  on  'tween  the  two  who  remained, 

Midst  a  tumult  of  hopes  and  of  fears ;. 
At  length  the  last  word  by  your  brother  was  gained, 

Wliereupon  came  a  few  bitter  tears : 

I  will  not  say  now  by  whom  they  were  shed. 
For  the  weakness,  if  weakness  it  were. 

Was  instantly  lost  in  the  noise  that  was  made 
At  the  close  of  this  brilliant  aflTair. 

After  this  we  proceeded  some  lessons  to  read. 
Which  appeared  to  give  good  satisfaction  ; 

A"d  as  to  owv  Ji(j%ires,  the  judges  agreed 
We  could  work  them  all  out  to  a  fraction. 

Next  the  judges  examined  the  progress  we'd  made 

At  writing,  in  coarse  hand  and  fine  , 
But  at  penmunshii)  ^^'t^w,  e'en  as  note.  I'm  afraid 

/never  was  destined  to  shine. 

In  awarding  the  prizes  no  favor  was  shown, 
For  a  plan  was  so  skilfully  laid, 

'^^'^\}^'^  )^'it«-^»  remained  to  the  judges  unknown 
lill  their  judgment  was  finally  made. 

Birt  the  master's  ambition  would  not  rest  content 
With  the  common  display  at  Insjiections; 

So  a  drama  or  play  he  resolved  to  present. 
In  a  way  that  should  touch  the  aflV.  tions. 

The  amateur  play-actors  n.unbered  but  three 

Himself,  Edwin  Foster,  and  I ; 
The  death  of  Great  Vmar  tlie  play  was  to  be. 

And  our  best  each  determined  to  try. 

3 


23 


t 


24  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

Ed.  Foster  as  Brutus  appeared  on  the  floor, 
While  I  the  lean  Cmsiu^  portrayed ; 

The  master  the  part  o^  Marc  Antony  bore, 
And  thus  was  each  character  played. 


The  little  dark  closet  already  described, 
As  "  green-room  "  was  made  to  do  duty  ; 

There  the  genius  of  Shakspeare  was  largely  imbibed 
In  all  its  exuberant  beauty. 


When  the  play  was  completed,  we  brought  the  house  down- 

To  use  a  theatrical  phrase ; 
Great  applause  was  bestowed  upon  Manager  Brown, 

And  on  his  young  actors  high  praise. 

Then  arose  Squiie  Moore — took  a  large  pinch  of  snuflf — 

And  delivered  a  neat  little  speech  ; 
He  said  he  had  seen  quite  or  more  than  enough 

To  prove  that  our  master  could  teach 

The  youthful  idea  to  shoot  and  to  grow, 

And  expand  to  its  broadest  dimensions — 
Here  he  ceased — said  no  farther  at  this  time  would  go. 

For  to  speaking  he  made  no  pretensions. 

His  friend  Andrew  Buntin  then  rose  in  his  place, 

And  said  in  delil)erate  phrase, 
He  would  the  occasion  with  pleasure  embrace 

To  add  his  unqualified  praise. 

Thus  dosed  the  events  of  this  wonderful  day, 

And  its  like  once  a  year  was  repeated, 
When  by  young  and  by  old,  by  the  grave  and  the 'gay, 

Its  advent  was  joyfully  greeted. 


SCHOOL   DISCIPLINE   AND   OUT-DOOB   INCIDENTS,   INCLUDING  A   FIGHT. 

A  fcclbuj  remembrance  no  doubt  you  will  have 

Of  the  fi'Title,  the  hlrch,  and  tiie  taios* 
Which  the  master  with  imnartiality  gave 

To  those  disobeying  his  laws. 


•  A  Scottish  iiistniment  of  pmiiHiin.ent  compospd  of  k-atlior  strapR,  soratwhat 
like  a  cat-o'-iiiiic-taiis 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

And  you  will  remember  the  muss  that  he  had 

With  Valentine  Sharman  one  day  ; 
How  he  conquered  the  will  of  the  obstinate  lad 

In  a  rather  remarkable  way. 

Val.  refused  to  obey  the  master's  command 

To  read,  at  his  turn,  in  the  class, 
But  stood  like  a  Statue,  his  book  in  his  hand, 

Determined  his  lesson  to  pass. 

Command  and  persuasion,  each  failed  to  pvo*'  '^'^ 

The  slightest  effect  on  the  boy  ; 
"When  the  master,  who  found  these  without  any  use, 

Resolved  other  means  to  employ. 


25 


Discretion  at  length  got  the  better  '^f  will, 
And  his  lesson  correctly  he  read ; 

But  he'd  rather  have  swallowed  apicrapill, 
As  he  afterwards  many  times  said. 


I  FIGHT. 


Such  cases  as  this  one  not  often  occurred, 
In  our  otherwise  well-ordered  s»^hool ; 

For  we  seldom  required  buta  look  or  a  word 
To  promptly  comply  with  each  rule. 

I  trust  I've  not  painted  these  pictures  in  vain, 

That  from  you  they'll  obtain  recognition  ; 
Will  bring  to  your  mind's  eye  the  scenes  om 


. ,_.  ^  ._  your  muul's  eye 

And  the  place  of  our  early  tuition. 


once  agaui 


And  do  you  remember  the  fun  that  we  had 

As  homeward  at  night  we  would  go. 
How  we  threw  the  soft  pellets  at  each  other's  head, 

Or  measured  our  length  in  the  snow  ? 

llow  we  played  "  knock  off  hats,"  and  would  wrestle  and  run, 

And  shout  till  our  throats  were  in  danger ; 
Yet  never  forgot,  when  we  chanced  to  meet  one, 

To  make  our  best  bow  to  a  stran,      ? 

How  we  i)layed  on  tiie  hill,  in  Eliphalot'a  lot, 

At  the  game  of  the  but  and  the  ball ; 
And  many  a  battle  in  mimicry  fought, 

Gettino'  many  a  tumble  and  fall  ? 


I 


ii' 


26  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

'Twas  here,  too,  that  Walter  and  Mark  had  a  fight, 

A  genuine  knock-down  affair ; 
As  each  'gainst  the  other  had  cherished  a  spite, 

And  determined  to  settle  it  there. 

Mark  walked  slowly  out,  threw  his  hat  on  the  ground, 

And  began  to  unbutton  his  coat ; 
Thus  challenged,  brave  Walter  sprang  out  with  a  bound 

And  bared  both  his  arms  and  his  throat. 

A  few  sturdy  blows  passed  between  them,  and  one 

Mark  planted  '^eneath  Walter's  eye ; 
A  Knight  of  the  liing  would  say  "  handsomely  done," 

And  doubtless  it  made  the  fire  fly. 

I  do  not  intend  to  descibe  the  affi'ay, 

'Twould  afford  you  less  pleasure  than  pain  ; 

But  Walter  acknowledged  the  loss  of  the  day, 
Yet  swore  he  would  try  it  again. 

You'll  remember  that  after  some  months  had  passed  by, 
They  met  and  again  tried  their  strength  ; 

That  Walter  this  time  gave  to  Mark  the  black  eye, 
While  Mark  laid  his  foe  at  full  length. 

This  battle  was  no  "  rough-ayd-tumble  "  affair 

Like  the  one  they  engaged  in  before — 
Which  was  more  like  the  tight  of  the  wolf  and  the  bear, 

Or  the  tiger  with  savage  wild  boar. 

They  fought  now  by  rules  that  were  deemed  scientific — 

O'er  a  pole — standing  up  face  to  face ; 
The  blows  they  inflicted  were  truly  terrific, 

But  the  seconds  made  each  keep  his  place. 

They  fought  long  and  bravely,  though  how  many  rounds 

My  memory  fails  me  to  tell ; 
But  after  eacii  getting  a  number  of  wounds, 

Tliey  concluded  to  stop  for  a  spell. 

This  gave  to  the  friends  and  the  seconds  a  chance 

To  urge  that  the  battle  should  cease  ; 
A  suggestion  'twas  easy  to  sec  at  a  glance 

Would  result  in  eflecting  a  peace. 

For  tliey'd  fouglit  long  enough  no  longer  to  doubt 

That  each  equal  prowess  possessed  ; 
And  as  this  was  the  most  they'd  been  fighting  about, 

Tiiey  agreed  that  the  matter  siiouid  rest. 


EAKLY    REMINISCENCES. 

The  quarrels  of  youth  are  not  often  long-lived, 
So  it  proved  with  the  one  of  that  day, 

For  being  thus  ended  'twas  never  revived, 
Time  wearing  it  quickly  away. 

We  look  back  with  wonder  at  this  distant  day, 
That  such  lighting  was  ever  in  fashion  ; 

And  rejoice  that  the  practice  has  gone  to  decay, 
That  we're  not  so  much  guided  by  passion  ; 

Tliat  courage— true  courage — is  ofteuest  shown 

In  the  use  of  a  little  good  sense, 
When  we  frankly  confess  to  a  fault  of  our  own, 

And  ai-e  slow  to  resent  an  offence- 


27 


LABORS   ON  THE   FARM. 

And  do  you  remember  our  work  on  the  farm. 
Our  ploughing,  and  [tlanting,  and  sowing  ; 

How  we  carefully  rolled  up  the  sleeves  from  each  arm 
As  we  stooped  to  our  digging  and  hoeing  ? 

That  detestable  work,  too,  ^i picking  up  stones, 

I  am  sure  you  will  never  forget ; 
The  terrible  pain  it  produced  in  my  bones 

I  fancy  I  feel  in  them  yet. 

Nor  will  you  forget  how  we  each  took  our  part 

At  turning  the  grindstone  around  ;  ^^ 

Nor  how  we  would  »  sliudder  and  grow  sick  at  heai't 
When  there  came  a  new  axe  to  be  ground. 

When  the  "  haying  "  arrived  how  great  was  our  fun, 
As  we  handled  the  fork  and  the  rake  ; 

And  spread  the  cut  grass  to  the  rays  of  the  sun. 
And  anon  turned  it  up  with  a  shake. 

And  when  with  the  labor  and  heat  we  perspired, 
'Neath  the  fierce-glowing  s\ui  at  noon-day. 

And  we  felt  cither  Inzy,  or  listless  and  tired. 
We'd  throw  ourselves  down  on  tlie  hay. 

This  histinct  of  Nature,  you  know  that  we  never 

Were  found  very  8K»w  to  obey  ; 
In  fact  we  were  always  remarkably  clever 

At  anythliJg  leading  that  way. 


^fli 


f 

4-} 


28  EARLY    EEMINISCENCES. 

When  the  hay  w.as  sufficiently  dried  ior  the  barn, 

In  windrows  we  raked  it  together, 
And  then  "  cocked  it  up  "  when  the  sky  gave  us  warn 

To  protect  it  awhile  from  the  weather. 

Or  if  we  had  time,  we  would  drive  in  the  cart, 

And  fill  up  the  rack  Muth  a  load  ; 
Then  away  for  the  barn  with  a  shout  we  would  start. 

While  high  on  its  summit  we  rode. 


O' 


The  doors  loudly  creak  as  backward  they  swing. 

And  swift  to  the  platform  we  drive  ; 
Then  up  the  ascent  we  impetuous  spring. 

And  safe  on  the  barn-floor  arrive. 

Brother  Mark  mounts  the  load  with  his  pitchfork  in  hand 

And  upward  he  tosses  the  hay, 
While  close  to  the  roof,  half  stifled,  we  stand 

And  carefully  stow  it  away. 

When  the  tall-waving  grain — it  was  not  always  tall — 

Invited  the  reapers  to  come, 
We'd  hunt  up  our  sickles  and  answer  the  call 

At  the  peril  of  finger  and  thumb. 

Of  harvests  th  '  poets  may  charmingly  write. 

And  picture  the  beauties  they  find  • 
But  the  reapers,  bent  over  fi-om  morning  till  night, 

Will  be  of  a  difterent  mind* 

Should  poets  once  try  the  sickle  to  wield 
And  get  their  hands  scratched  with  the  thistles. 

They'd  confess,  as  they  beat  a  retreat  from  the  field, 
They  had  jt?a^V7  rather  dear  for  their  ichisths. 

Though  reaping  and  binding  were  liard  on  the  back, 

And  pulling  of  peas  even  worse  ; 
Yet  to  gather  the  sheaves  for  the  barn  or  the  stack 

With  the  aid  of  the  cart  and  the  horse. 

Was  a  pleasant  em[)loyment,  that  shortly  repaired 

The  mischief  the  first  had  created  ; 
One  in  which  all  the  laborers  cheerfull>  shared, 

For  'twas  liked  as  the'other  was  Jiated. 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES 


29 


APPLE-GATHERIKG. 

You'll  remembe    our  orchard  of  old  apple-trees 

That  numbered  scarce  twenty  in  all, 
Whose  blossoms  in  spring  furnished  work  for  the  bees, 

While  the  fruit  gave  us  work  in  the  fall  ? 

The  trees  were  all  named— I  remember  them  now, 

And  could  give  to  each  one  recognition, 
The  shape  of  its  fruit  and  the  bend  of  each  bough, 

And  its  ill  or  its  thrifty  condition. 

The  practice  of  grafting  was  not  then  in  favor, 

In  fact,  as  a  science,  unknown  ; 
So  by  tasting  an  apple  we  knew  from  its  flavor 

On  which  of  the  trees  it  had  grown. 

There  were  some  of  them  bitter  and  some  of  them  sweet, 

And  others  as  sour  as  a  lemon ; 
Some  fair  to  the  eye  to  the  mouth  w^ere  a  cheat, 

With  a  taste  not  unlike  a,  persimmon. 

Up  near  to  the  barn  one  little  tree  stood, 

Obscure  and  from  view  nearly  hidden  ; 
But  with  apples  so  fine  that  the  tree  was  "tabooed, 

And  the  fruit  always  called  the  "  forbidden. 

As  Autumn  approached  and  the  fruit  by  degrees 

Turned  mellow  and  fell  to  the  ground. 
We  buys  would  keep  watch 'neath  the  favorite  trees. 

And  gather  up  all  to  be  found. 

This  process  of  nature  was  often  so  slow, 

We  were  tempted,  at  times,  on  the  sly, 
To  give  the  long  branches  a  shake  or  a  blow 

To  add  to  our  scanty  suppij. 

When  at  length  it  was  time  to  gather  the  crop, 

Our  baskets  and  barrels  to  fill, 
Like  squirrels  we  climbed  each  tree  to  the  top 

And  shook  down  the  fruit  loith  a  will; 

Then  stored  it  away  in  the  attic  or  cellar, 

To  keep  for  the  winter's  supply,  „ 

And  eat  by  the  peck  as  it  grew  soft  and     mellei, 
Or  use  now  and  then  for  a  pic, 


30  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

Our  kind  thoughtful  mother,  as  Avinter  wore  on 

And  the  apples  went  off  rather  free, 
Would  pick  out  the  best  ones  before  they  were  gone 

And  put  thera  beneath  lock  and  key. 

Ah  !  brother,  how  oft  in  the  early  twilight, 

Ere  the  Avork  of  the  evening  begun, 
By  the  cleanly  swept  hearth  and  the  fire  burning  bright 

As  the  rays  of  the  tropical  sun, 

We  coaxed  that  good  mother — and  seldom  in  vain, 
For  she  lived  but  to  add  to  our  pleasures — 

To  open  her  store-house  admittance  to  gain, 
And  give  us  a  taste  of  its  treasures. 

And  when  just  behind  her  we  cautiously  crept, 

No  hound  ever  scented  his  game 
More  quickl;,    han  we  where  the  apples  were  kept, 

By  the  odor  which  out  of  thera  came. 

And  oh !  with  what  gusto  those  apples  we  ate — 

No  nectar  e'er  tasted  so  sweet ; 
Nor  did  our  keen  relish  one  tittle  abate 

When  at  last  there  were  none  left  to  eat. 


DIGGIXG   AND  MARKETING  POTATOES,  INCLUDING  AN   ACCIDENT  AND 
A  SMUGGLING  ADVENTURE. 

And  do  you  remember  the  seeds  we  would  drop, 

Each  spring  in  the  furrow  or  drill. 
And  then,  in  the  fall,  what  a  glorious  crop 

Of  potatoes  the  cellar  would  fill  ? 

Now,  digging  potatoes,  though  irksome  to  some, 

For  us  had  a  singular  charm, 
And  except  when  our  fingers  the  frost  would  benumb 

'Twas  the  pleasantest  work  on  the  farm. 

Our  hearts  swelled  with  rapture,  as  scattered  around 

In  colors  of  red,  Avhite,  and  bhie. 
The  ripe,  rounded  Murphies,  just  dug  from  the  ground 

Presented  themselves  to  oiir  view.  ' 

And  then  hcv  we  gathered  vhem  up  for  the  cart, 

And  tallied  fjach  basket  put  in, 
While  each  kept  his  count  from  the  others  apart, 

That  due  credit  at  night  he  should  win. 


L 


EAELY    REMINISCENCES. 

When  at  length  they  were  brought  to  tae  old  cellar  door, 

How  swiftly  we  rattled  them  in  ; 
Then  shovelled  them  np  from  the  smooth  cellar  floor, 

And  carried  them  back  to  the  bin. 

When  winter  approached  we  would  shut  out  the  cold. 

By  banking  the  house  all  around, 
To  protect  what  to  us  was  more  precious  than  gold— 

The  crop  thus  produced  from  the  ground. 

You'll  remember  the  patch  which  we  each  of  us  had 

To  raise  a  small  crop  of  our  own, 
And  how,  ev'ry  season,  our  hearts  Avere  made  glad 

By  the  number  of  bushels  thus  grown  ? 

For  we  took  them  to  market  and  bought  the  fine  clothes 

We  in  no  other  way  could  obtain, 
Nankeen  coat  and  pants,  vest,  hat,  shoes,  and  hose, 

And  umbrellas  to  keep  off  the  rain. 

Now  this  brings  to  mind  what  happened^one  day 
When  to  Scooduc  we  went  with  a  load ; 

We  had  sold  it  for  cash  and  taken  onr  pay, 
When  over  the  river  we  strode  ; 

Avoiding  the  toll-bridge  to  save  paying  toll. 
We  crossed  iust  below  on  the  ice,  . 

Bouslit  our  dry-goods  and  b-d  them  done  up  m  a  roll, 
And  were  ready  for  home  in  a  trice. 

Meantime  by  the  unobserved  rise  of  the  tide 

The  ice  got  afloat  near  the  shore  ; 
At  least  itVas  so  on  the  oiyiyosite  side, 

As  I  found  to  my  cost  coming  o'er. 

For  I  stepped  on  a  cake  which  I  thought  to  be  firm, 

But  it  tipped  and  I  tell  in  the  river ; 
And  though  I  remained  but  a  very  briei  term, 

I  came  out  on  the  ice  in  a  slaver. 

My  bundle,  meanwhile,  had  floated  away 

With  all  the  fine  things  it  contained  ; 
Of  hope  for  its  safety  there  seemed  not  a  ray. 

Yet  after  a  while  'twas  regained. 

At  length  we  got  over,  but  only  to  meet 

A  rilk  of  a  different  kind ; 
For  there  in  broad  day,  on  the  side  of  the  stieet, 

To  mcddlinr' mischief  inchned, 


31 


•I'l 


^^  EARLY    BEMINISCENCES. 

Stood  a  custom-house  officer,  ready  to  pounce 

On  contraband  goods  like  our  o\vn  ; 
And  though  we  might  loudly  such  conduct  denonnce, 

if  or  ourselves  good  excuse  we  had  none. 

For  we'd  smuggled  our  goods  in  defiance  of  law. 

Well  knowing  the  risk  we  must  take ; 
And  so,  if  we  held  its  detectives  in  awe 
•       :Not  a  word  of  complaint  could  we  make. 

Well,  we  hit  on  a  plan,  and  it  proved  a  success 
By  Its     killmg  two  birds  with  o.^e  stone  ;'' 

W  hat  It  was  it  would  take  a  smart  Yankee  to  guess, 
Yet  nevertheless  it  was  done. 

On  our  sled  was  a  hogshead  from  which  we  had  sold 
1  ho  potatoes  we  brought  in  the  morn  ; 

And  in  It  some  coverlets,  faded  and  old. 
And  dusty,  and  taHered,  and  torn. 

Into  this  I  crept  slily  with  bundle  concealed. 
Wrapped  the  coverlets  round  to  keep  warm ; 

iN  or  were  my  snug  quarters  to  mortal  revealed 
Till  out  ot  the  reacL  of  all  harm. 

In  those  days  no  water-cure  treatment  was  known 

10  doctor,  professor,  or  quack  ; 
let  though  not  perhaps  scientific'ly  done. 

Here  was  I  m  a  «  water-cure  pack." 

And  it  answered  the  purpose  remarkably  well, 

i^  or  I  suffered  but  little  from  cold  : 
Aiid  when  I  got  home  I  crept  out  of  my  shell 

Like  a  mummy  from  Egypt  unrolled. 

These  smuggling  adventures  we  frequently  had, 
Affording  full  scope  for  our  wits 

AiKl  sternly  refused  to  us  even  a  part ^ 
1  hough  we  humbly  preferred  such  a  wish. 


EARLY    BEMINISCENCES. 


88 


CUTTING   AND  HAULING  FIRE-WOOD. 

And  do  you  remember,  in  fine  frosty  weather, 

How  off  to  the  woods  we  would  go, 
And  into  a  tree  we  would  chop  both  together 

And  tumble  it  down  in  the  enow  ? 

And  then  into  suitable  lengths  for  the  sled 

With  our  axes  would  speedily  cut, 
Wliile  yet  it  remained  in  its  soft  snowy  bed, 

The  tree  from  the  top  to  the  butt. 

Through  the  snow  with  the  team  we  would  break  in  a  road 

To  draw  out  the  long  winter's  store, 
And  on  the  long  sled  we  would  build  up  a  load 

And  drive  with  it  off  to  the  door. 

When,  day  after  dav,  through  many  long  weeks. 

We  had  toiled  at'this  sole  occupation. 
Bringing  strength  to  our  limbs  and  a  glow  to  our  cheeks 

Rarely  found  in  a  higher  vocation. 

We  filled  up  the  yard  with  a  vast  pile  of  wood 

Till  beside  it  was  left  little  room, 
And  then  from  its  crest  we  complacently  viewed 

What  'twould  take  a  twelve-month  to  consume. 


THRESHING   AND   GOING   TO  MILL. 

This  iob  once  completed,  we  next  take  a  turn 
At  thre«hino-  the  oats  and  the  wheat ;     ,     ,     , 

The  sound  of  our  flails  echoes  loud  through  the  barn 
As  blow  after  blow  we  repeat. 

To  lighten  our  b.bors  at  times  we  would  rest, 

Always  keephig  an  eye  on  the  door  ; 
Then  resume  it  a|aiti  with  our  spirits  refreshed 

After  playing  a  game  on  the  floor, 

With  an  old  pack  of  cards  which  we  stealthily  di-ew 
From  the  place  where  we  kept  it  dose  hidden 

But  this  was  a  thing  which  our  ;'  Pa"  never  knew, 
For  cards  he  had  fitrietly  fovbidden. 


'Hfll^ 


34 


i^B 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

The  grain  Leing  winnowed,  we'd  fill  up  a  sack 

All  ready  to  take  to  the  mill ; 
Then  place  it  on  crosswise  of  old  Charlie's  back 

And  trot  with  it  off  down  the  hill. 

Alas !  and  alack !  what  trouble  we  had 

To  keep  the  bag  firm  in  its  place  ; 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  we  often  got  mad 

And  turned  very  red  in  the  face, 

As  we  tugged  at  the  end  hanging  over  the  most, 
Which  threatened  to  slide  to  the  ground, 

Or  mounting  a  log,  or  a  stone,  or  a  post, 
We  twisted  and  turned  it  around. 

But  though  much  annoyed  in  the  way  I  have  named, 

We  were  anxious  at  all  times  to  go  ; 
And  for  this  we  were  not  in  the  least  to  be  blamed, 

As  I  think  I  shall  presently  show. 


'%^ 


moore's  mills. 

"  Moore's  Mills,"  then  as  noto,  was  a  place  of  resort 

h  or  the  people  for  many  miles  round  ; 
And  whether  for  business,  for  gossij),  or  sport, 

Twas  here  they  were  sure  to  be  found. 

Here  l)oys  would  meet  boys  in  a  Avrestle  or  race. 

Or  engage  in  some  favorite  game, 
Giving  joy  and  excitement  to  each  glowiiif^  fiice 

And  vigor  and  strength  to  tiie  frame.  ' 

Brotbtvr  .Toel,  too,  liere  kept  a  country  store, 

VVell  iinnished  with  luxuries  rare. 
And  customers  iloekcd  to  his  little  shop  door 

To  spend  all  the  cash  they  could  spare. 

This  was  long  ere  the  Temperance  movement  berrun, 
\V  hen  men  drank  their  rum  with  impunity  :    * 

Hence  a  fight  ..r  a  s.piabhjc,  to  add  to  the  fun, 
>V  ould  occur  at  each  good  opportunity. 

Here  the  squire  held  his  court,  am!  Justice  dispensed 

With  a  firm  and  unwavering  hand  ; 
Though  suitors  somc.times  u  ould  bcconuj  much  incensed 

i\i\a  reluse  by  his  judginc-its  to  -tjux!.  ' 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

The  mills  of  themselves,  with  their  miceasin^'j  clrtter, 

For  us  had  a  singular  charm  ; 
The  noise  of  their  wheels  and  the  rush  of  the  water, 

Were  change  from  dull  life  on  the  farm. 

There  was  life  in  the  saw-mill,  its  crash  and  its  clank, 

And  life  in  its  swift-moving  steel ;  ^ 

And  life  in  the  "  pitman  "  that  played  on  its  crank, 

And  life  in  its  great  water-wheel. 

There  was  life  in  the  men  as  they  ran  on  the  logs 
At  the  risk  of  a  bath  to  the  chin,  ^ 

And  fastened  them  firm  with  the  chain  and  its  clogs. 
Ere  the  turn  of  the  wheel  drew  them  in. 

There  was  life  in  the  teamsters,  as  load  after  load 

They  carted  the  lumber  away  ; 
And  mounting  the  hill  on  the  old  Scooditc  road. 

Were  gone  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

There  was  life  in  the  hum  of  the  cirmlar  saio 
Which  was  tended  by  tall  David  Farrow— 

His  sole  occupation  to  push  and  to  draio, 
All  day  in  liis  quarters  so  narrow. 

There  was  life  in  the  grist-miU,  .mA  much  of  it,  too, 

For  'twas  here  that  we  oftenest  tound 
The  neighboring  tUrmers  in  numbers  not  few, 

Who  came  with  their  grain  to  be  ground. 

There  was  life  in  the  whirl  of  the  great  millstone 

With  its  deep  and  monotonous  roll, 
And  life  in  the  miller  who,  keen  for  his  own, 

Never  failed  to  look  after  his  toll! 

Thero  was  life  in  dividing  "the  tares  from  the  wheat" 

liy  the  use  of  tlie  fanning  machine, 
As  it  blew  out  the  seeds,  and  the  hulls,  and  the  cheat, 

And  left  nothing  foul  or  unclean. 

There  was  life  in  the  nhake  of  the  long  dusty  bolt 
As  it  parted  i\o  hnm  from  the/o'<r,        ^ 

And  at  each  revolution  came  down  with  a  jolt 
To  give  greater  effect  to  its  power. 


85 


»  jj^^l-  ^.-M  v^-ais  itttroduced  by  Iho  miller  us  an  iinprovomouU 


I 


EARLY    EEMINISCENCES. 

Ti,.  t  "V'S^S'"'  «'''h  «'''™  and  mop 
The  workmen  would  whistle  and  LgT' 

^nd  life  i„  the  vigorous  blows  they  strike 
And  ft^l  ^  sector  the  fiery  stars,   "         °' 

^";\'t"„rd1n*;'-rUr''^"''' "''''- 

"irzt:zs:fnt£«"*. 

3^'Sp,ili'affiK!''^'''^«»-Uo  stand. 
\V  hero  //„/<;«  ui.(i  ^/!-//,«  ^ore  n<A-W   n,i  y 
By  mc-thoas  provoki.,gly  sioi    '"^''"^^   '''''"-'^ 

Ami  I  le  in  tl.e  imrse  so  sturay  nnd  touirh 
As  Le  tugged  it  around  all  ICl      ^' 


EARLY     REMINISCENCES. 

There  was  life  where  the  shoemaJcer  waxed  bis  end 

And  sharpened  his  hanl-ipood pegs^ 
And  then  on  his  tree  the  leather  would  bend 

To  fashion  bis  long  hoot-legs. 

And  life  as  he  fastened  the  heels  with  a  tacJc, 

Aye  singing  his  cheery  song, 
And  rubbed  and  polished  the  edges  black 

With  his  arm  so  brawny  and  strong. 

There  were  beauty  and  life  in  the  pent-up  stream. 

As  rushing  the  mill-dam  o'er, 
It  merrily  danced  in  the  bright  sunbeam, 

Or  watered  each  pebbly  shore ; 

Or  V.  ,pidly  sped  to  the  beautiful  lake^ 

The  thick-wooded  hills  between  ; 
Or  slow  meandered  through  alder  and  brake. 

And  meadow  and  pasture  green. 


37 


SHINGLE-MAKING   AND   TEAMING   KOE  THE   LUMBEEEUS. 

And  do  you  remember  the  days  that  we  spent 
In  looking  through  thickets  and  dingles, 

And  through  the  deep  snow-drifts  how  often  we  went 
To  haul  out  the  rift  for  our  shingles? 

And  how  these  same  shingles  we  skilfully  made 

liy  the  use  of  the  saw  and  the  maid^ 
The  great  iron  fro  and  the  keen  polished  blade— 

For  we  knew  how  to  handle  them  all. 

And  thin  with  green  withes  of  the  birch  or  the  bcech- 

The  toughest  and  best  to  l.e  found- 
In  neat  little  bundles,  a  hundred  in  each, 

Comjiactly  our  shingles  we  bound. 

Enough  of  them  ready,  you  know  'twas  our  habit 

To  drive  with  them  off  to  the  town. 
And  sell  them  to  Marks,  or  to  Frink,  or  to  Abbot, 

Or  merchants  of  lesser  renown ; 

And  take  in  exchange  what  the  farm  wouldn't  raise— 

Ounm  and  tobacco  and  rice  ; 
Our  shirt inas  and  sheetings,  om  Jlannels  and  baitc, 

.     1    ,1  '    .t  • II..    • 

^viiu  oiner  iiiiiigs  c-quauj 


.list         •!    lOU 


;J'i 


I, 


1*, 


88  EARLY    EEMINISCENCES. 

And  do  you  remember  the  trips  that  we  took 

To  the  lumberers,  deep  in  the  woods, 
Up  the  "  Diggedequash  "  and  across  the  "  Trout-JBrooJc^^ 

To  haul  up  their  hay  and  their  goods  ? 

And  before  I  could  learn  how  with  safety  to  ride, 

Though  the  horses  went  ever  so  slow, 
HoM'  oft  from  the  top  of  the  load  I  would  slide, 

Pitching  heels  over  head  in  the  snow ! 

And  when  it  came  night  how  we'd  stop  at  a  camp 

And  partake  of  the  lumberer's  fare, 
Eat  our  ineals  on  a  plank  without  candle  or  lamp. 

And  with  seldom  a  blessing  or  prayer. 

And  how  this  same  plank  used  to  serve  as  a  bed,. 
As  we  stretched  out  in  i'ront  of  the  fire. 

And  with  boots  and  pea-jacket  would  pillow  our  head, 
And  thus  to  our  slumbers  retire. 

On  one  side  the  fire,  burning  cheerful  and  bright. 

On  the  other  the  crew  in  repose, 
In  comfort  thus  passing  the  long  winter's  ni<'ht. 

Unconscious  of  pleasures  or  woes.  '^ 

But  we  on  our  hard,  narrow  20uch  often  turn. 

As  Morpheus  closes  our  peepers. 
At  the  risk  on  one  side  of  a  scorch  or  a  burn. 

On  the  other  a  growl  from  the  sleepers. 

For  deep  in  our  slumbers  full  often  we  tumble 

Across  the  grim  lumberer's  feet, 
Then  back  to  our  pillows  we  hasti.    scramble 

The  process  again  to  repeat. 

Long,  long  before  daylight  the  teamster  and  cook 

Are  at  their  respective  vocations. 
The  latter  requiring  no  rhlea  from  a  book 

To  serve  up  his  tow  simple  rations. 

Which  consisted  of  codfish  and  pork  in  a  pan 
The  only  Jixh  gracing  our  table,  ' 

And  a  loaf  of  hot  bread  from  which  every  man 
Cut  a  slice  as  he  found  himself  able. 

From  the  spruce  or  the  birch  he  concocted  a  tea 
^  Winch  we  drank  from  a  dingy  tin  cup. 
The  meal  thuH  provided  was  eaten  with  Lrleo 
XX3  ca-w-u  iuua,  iiis  one  aua  ms  sup. 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

No  epicure  ever  enjoyed  with  such  zest 

His  luxuries  costly  and  rare, 
As  we,  while  remaining  the  lumberer's  gue&t, 

The  viands  in  his  bill  of  fare. 

.  Ah !  brother,  what  would  I  not  give  to  regam, 
Though  at  cost  of  the  stern  wmter's  cold, 
That  appetite  keen  for  a  diet  so  plain. 
If  it  could  but  be  purchased  with  gold. 

But  work  did  not  always  our  time  occupy— 

We  had  our  amusements  beside ; 
And  whenever  disposed  for  the  last  to  apply, 

Twas  a  boon  that  was  seldom  denied. 

For  our  kind-hearted  parents  were  quick  to  discern 
That  youth  was  the  time  for  enjoyment ; 

And  though  habits  of  industry  early  to  learn, 
In  some  useful  and  fitting  employment. 

The  good  of  their  children  might  dearly  require, 
Yet  in  this  were  their  duties  not  ended  ; 

For  that  nature  points  out  through  the  youthful  desire 
That  tasks  and  amusements  be  blended. 


89 


Foster's  lake  and  the  huckleberry  heath. 

The  beautiful  lake  which  so  quietly  lay 

At  the  foot  of  the  rich  wooded  hill, 
With  its  bright  golden  fishes  that  sportively  play. 

And  the  loons  with  their  musical  trill ; 

The  island  which  seemed  from  its  surface  to  rise. 
With  its  green  sloping  sides  to  the  shore ; 

A  mysterious  land  to  our  wonderftg  eyes. 
Which  wo  often  so  longed  to  explore. 

How  oft  we  would  hie,  in  the  hot  summer's  sun. 

To  its  margin  so  shady  and  cool ; 
Fling  aside  all  our  garments  while  still  on  the  run, 

And  plunge  with  a  shout  in  the-  pool  j 

And  float  on  its  surface,  or  dive  down  below 

In  search  of  a  stone  or  a  shell, 
Or  swim  to  the  cove  where  the  pond-Mies  grow 

As  tbey  ro«ik  in  Ihe  lake's  gcniic  =—— • ' 

4 


^11 . 


^' 


I 


t-, 


«n- 


(SJ- 


m 


*0  EAELY    REMINISCENCES. 

--C  t,£fff.,f  j^jj,^  grew  ? 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

And  how  on  tliese  journeys  we  sometimes  got  lost 

JM)r  the  want  of  a  road  or  a  track ; 
And  as  night  gathered  round  us  would  find  to  our  cost 

We  could  neither  get  forward  nor  back  ? 

In  such  a  dilemma  our  only  recourse, 

When  so  dark  we  could  no  longer  see, 
Was  to  join  in  a  shout  till  our  voices  were  hoarse, 

if  rom  the  top  of  a  crag  or  a  tree. 

At  intervals  stopping  to  catch  on  the  breeze, 
Like  the  faint  distant  bay  of  the  hound. 

The  call  of  our  friends  through  the  dense  forest  trees. 
And  know  that  at  length  we  were  found. 


41 


ok. 


SLEIGH-RIDIIWJ   AND  DANCING-PABTIES. 

And  do  you  remember  when  sleighing-time  came. 

How  we  tackled  up  Charlie  or  Jack  ; 
And  how  from  the  girls  a  sweet  kiss  we  would  claim 

For  a  ride  on  the  snow-covered  track  ? 

Ah  me  !  when  I  think  of  the  merry  sleigh-ride. 
And  the  bells  with  their  musical  jingle,  , 

How  swift  and  how  smooth  through  the  snow  we  would  glide 
I  forget  I  am  no  longer  single  ; 

Forget  I  am  old  with  a  wife  by  my  side, 

(And  no  man  was  e'er  blest  with  a  better ;) 
Forget  that  to  her  by  a  chain  I  am  tiad, 

Or  what  Me  calls  "  a  soft  silken  fetter:^ 

But  in  fancy  I'm  back  to  our  loved  native  land, 

And  am  liicing  the  cold  winter^  storm, 
With  a  seat  in  our  aleigh  and  a  whip  In  my  hand, 

And  a  huffalo-rohe  to  keep  warm  ; 

And  under  that  cover  and  near  to  my  side 

Sits  a  gay  laughing  girl  of  sixteen— 
Our  sleigh,  you'll  remember,  was  not  very  wide, 

And  small  was  the  S[>ace  left  between — 

I  try  hard  to  whisper  soft  words  in  her  ear, 

Jiut  the  noise  of  the  bells  won't  permit ; 
I  don't  know  that  she  would  be  willing  to  hear. 

Or  deem  the  occasion  were  tit ; 


m 


42  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

Since  by  words,  then,  my  feelings  I  cannot  convey, 
Other  means  I'm  compelled  to  employ — 

What  they  were,  even  now,  I  Avould  not  like  to  say, 
As  it  might  my  dear  wife  still  annoy ! 

And  do  you  remember  how  eager  we  were 

Whenever  we  got  a  good  chance, 
In  the  pleasures  of  balls  and  of  parties  to  share. 

And  join  in  the  feast  or  the  dance  ? 

And  go  through  the  four  or  the  eight-handed  reel 

With  a  buxom  young  lass  on  each  arm, 
And  dance  the  hornpipe  on  the  toe  and  the  heel, 

Keeping  time  with  the  tune  to  a  charm  ? 

And  get  up  those  plays  which  the  girls  so  much  favor, 
Where  "forfeits"  are  not  deemed  amiss  ; 

For  the  reason  no  doubt  they     '<xht  judge  by  the  flavor. 
Which  fellow  they  liked  best  lO  kiss. 

On  these  festive  occasions  we'd  keep  up  the  fun — 
All  care  for  the  morrow  still  scorning — 

T'ill  warned  by  the  daylight  we'd  start  on  the  run, 
"  And  go  home  with  the  girls  iu  the  morning." 


SINGING-^CIIOOL, 


■ 


1 


You'll  remember  our  efforts  sweet  music  to  gain 

From  teachers  of  eminent  skill, 
From  old  Father  Salter,  with  legs  like  a  crane. 

To  William  C.  Scott  of  Oak  Hill. 

And  how  though  we  yet  were  regarded  but  shavers. 

And  not  pushed  aheafl  very  far, 
AVe  still  learned  the  minims  and  crotchets  and  quavers, 

And  counted  the  heats  in  a  har. 

And  ran  up  the  scale  as  we  would  up  a  ladder 

And  back  without  blunder  or  flaw  ; 
While  nothing  on  earth  ever  made  us  feel  gladder 

Than  when  we  could  sing  fa,  sol,  la. 

Those  singing-school  days  were  delightful  indeed, 

Not  alone  lor  the  music  acquired ; 
i.hey.aiiontec!,  wesiuc,  what  the  young  so  much  iiocd, 

And  what  we  so  often  desired, — 


EARLY     E'EMINISCENCES. 

A  chance,  now  and  then,  for  the  boys  and  the  girls 

To  indulge  in  a  little  flirtatfon, 
When  roguish  young  Cupid,  midst  dimples  and  curls 

Would  quietly  take  up  his  station  ; 

And,  true  to  his  nature,  of  pity  bereft, 

Would  practise,  with  consummate  art, 
His  skill  with  the  baw  as  he  shot  right  and  left 

Those  arrows  which  reach  to  the  heart. 

At  the  close  of  the  day,  when  the  singing  was  ended, 

"Twould  cause  not  the  slightest  alarm. 
If  to  some  blushing  maiden,  as  homeward  she  wended, 

We  gallantly  offered  our  arm. 

And  once  at  her  house,  if  we  stopped  to  take  tea. 
We  would  sit  in  the  moon's  silver  light ; 

Or  if  to  the  plan  the  dear  girl  would  agree, 
We  would  stay  and  "  snuff  ashes  "  all  night. 


43 


GOING  TO  CUUKCH. 

You'll  remember  the  meeting-house  on  the  hill  side, 

Its  counterpart  not  in  creation  ; 
For  to  preachers  and  teachers  its  doors  opened  wide 

Of  every  denomination, 


•i4  EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 

From  bellowing  ]!futt,  who  the  pulpit  first  fiUqd, 
And  who  gloried  in  picturing  hell, 

To  oily-tongued  Dod,*  who,  in  argument  skilled, 
Made  our  future  appear  very  well. 

These  views,  so  conflicting,  unsettled  our  minds, 
And  made  us  but  sorry  church-goers  ; 

The  more  so,  that  preacher3  of  so  many  kinds, 
Had  among  them  some  terrible  bores. 

Full  often  I  think  of  those  diys  with  regret — 
My  mind  to  the  past  ever  reaching ; 

For  I  feel  the  effect  of  a  want,  even  yet, 
Of  consistent  and  regular  preaching. 


GENKEAL  MUSTER. 

! 

And  do  you  remember  our  general  muster — 

The  day  of  all  days  in  the  year ; 
'Round  which,  while  I  write,  what  memories  cluster 

Of  gingerbread,  apples,  and  beer  ? 

Of  soldiers  in  masses  and  boys  by  the  score, 

Of  fifers  and  dru;nmers  and  pipers  ; 
Of  bullies  and  loafers  at  each  tavern  door. 

Of  death-dealing,  rum-selling  vipers  ; 

Of  lieutenants  and  captains  and  dandies  and  swells. 

Of  our  Adjutant,  Major,  and  Colonel ; 
Of  shouting  and  firing  and  villanous  smells, 

As  if  from  the  regions  infernal ; 

Of  marching  and  drilling  the  rank  and  the  file. 

And  trying  to  keep  them  in  order ; 
Oft  gaining  thereby  a  contemptuous  smile 

From  the  Yankees  just  over  the  border ; 

Of  how  the  great  day,  like  all  other  great  days, 

Was  finally  brought  to  a  close  ; 
Though  the  sun  the  next  morn  with  its  bright  beaming  vays, 

Found  the  most  of  us  still  in  a  doze. 


*  Rev.  John  Bovee  Dod,  since  famous  as  a  psychologist,  an  M.D.,  etc. 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 


45 


! 


THK  COUNTY  ELECTION. 

And  do  you  remember  th'  excitement  we  had 

When  freeholders  went  to  election, 
And  voted  for  candidates,  good  men  and  bad, 

Assembled  from  every  section  ? 

Who,  ranged  in  a  row  and  in  front  of  the  poll^ 

Made  speeches  and  promises  grand, 
By  which  very  few,  or  in  part  or  in  whole, 

They  ever  intended  to  stand. 

There  were  eight  of  these  candidates  eager  to  run, 

Each  moved  by  his  hopes  and  his  fears  ; 
For  a  seat  in  the  House  was  the  prize  to  be  won, 

And  obtained,  it  might  last  seven  years. 

Now  out  of  these  eight  there  were  barely  but  four 

Who  could  to  the  place  be  electee  ; 
For  the  county  had  seats  in  the  House  for  no  more- 

Hence  the  others  must  needs  be  rejected. 

There  was  old  Judge  McKay,  over  threescore  and  ten, 

Who  had  made  and  administered  laws 
The  most  of  his  lifetime,  and  begg'd  once  again 

He  might  serve  in  his  country's  cause. 

There  was  Campbeix,  the  Colonel,  so  gallant  and  gay, 

Though  by  no  means  a  buck  or  a  dandy. 
Whose  rubicund  face  showed  as  plain  as  the  day  • 

He  was  not  on  bad  terms  with  his  brandy. 

And  good  Col.  Wycr,  who  sat  by  his  side — 

A  gentleman  friendly  and  kind ; 
Content  by  the  will  of  the  people  to  bide, 

As  tliey  never  had  left  him  behind. 

There  was  ship-builder  Clarke  on  whose  chance  for  success 

Seem'd  placed  an  effectual  stopper. 
By  the  charge,  freely  made,  that  his  ships  cost  him  less 

Through  the  bolts  being  part  only  copper.* 

There  was  Jemmy,  the  Scotsman,  from  bonny  Dundee, 

Then  a  stranger  to  fame  or  renown. 
Whose  triumph  we  hoped  and  expected  to  see. 

For  he  Avas  our  own  Master  Brown. 

*  Clarke  was  charged  with  fraudulently  U3ing  iron  bolts  with  copper  heads, 


%\ 


I 


t 


43  EARLY    EEMINISCENCES. 

By  his  side  sat,  with  fortunes  close  linked  to  his  own, 

His  talented  friend,  Patrick  Clinch  ; 
In  the  canvass  more  vigorous  men  there  were  none, 

As  they  worked  their  way  up  inch  by  i/ich. 

There  was  Hatheway,  who  a  lieutenant  had  been 

In  a  gallant  Provincial  corps  ; 
•lut  now  a  surveyor,  athletic  and  keen, 

Appointed  the  loads  to  explore. 

And  dark  Peter  Smith,  somewhat  rugged  and  rough— 

A  prudent  sea-captain  his  station. 
With  good  common  sense,  and  assurance  enough 

To  atone  for  his  slight  education. 

The  verdant,  who  seldom  elections  attended, 

Believed  the  fine  things  that  were  said  ; 
Believed  that  all  classes  would  be  represented, 

Each  calling,  profession,  and  trade. 

That  soon  would,  in  every  part  of  the  county, 

Long  languishing  credit  revive  ; 
That  commerce  would  flourish  and  fish  get  a  bounty. 

And  farming  and  lumbering  thrive. 

That  the  county's  fund-holders,  without  sour  looks. 

No  longer  on  cheating  intent, 
Would  allow  the  Grand  Juries  a  peep  at  their  boolcs^ 

And  show  where  the  money  all  went. 

Well,  the  canvass  went  on,  and  the  men  went  their  rounds 
Through  each  parish  the  county  contained  ; 

And  when  the  poll  closed  there  were  scarce  any  bounds 
To  the  noise  and  the  tumult  that  reigned. 

The  success  of  Cami  bell  and  Wyer  was  sure. 

Almost  from  the  very  beginning. 
But  the  friends  of  the  others  turned  out  to  be  fewer, 

And  smaller  their  chances  of  winning. 

On  one  side  were  Clarke  and  his  friend  Judge  McKay, 

Determined  and  hard  to  put  down  ; 
On  the  other,  all  honest  means  prompt  to  employ. 

Were  Clinch  and  his  friend  Jemmy  Brown. 

The  remainder  were  "  lame-ducks,"  and  gave  up  the  race 

Long  ere  it  was  brought  to  an  end, 
Being  satisfied  theirs  was  a  desperate  case, 

Which  all  they  could  do  wouldn't  mend. 


■'♦: 


EAELY    RT-MINISCENCES.  47 

When  the  voting  had  ceased  it  was  rumored  through  town 

And  believed," if  no  flaws  were  detected, 
That  Campbell  and  Clinch  and  Wyer  and  Brown 

Were  the  candidates  duly  elected. 

But  by  some  hocus-pocus  in  counting  the  votes, 

Some  deed  that  was  done  in  the  dark, 
The  Sheriff  announced  from  jis  own  private  notes 

The  success  of  McKay  and  of  Clarke.  • 

The  result  was  proclaimed  'midst  silence  profound — 

For  all  had  their  hopes  and  tl,  . '  fears — 
But  soon  there  burst  forth,  as  if    .  nding  the  ground, 

A  storm  of  loud  hisses  and  che    s. 

I  need  not  remind  you  ho  y  grieved  we  all  were 
When  the  news  reached  our  home  on  Tow'r  Hill ; 

For  we'd  long  been  persuaded,  with  talents  so  rare. 
That  Brown  some  high  office  should  fill. 

Nor  will  you  forget  the  long  scrutiny  made 

Of  the  votes  which  the  county  had  polled, 
Or  the  lawyers  employed  and  the  fees  that  were  paid 

Corruption  and  frauds  to  unfold. 

Nor  how  Clikci:  and  Brown  unwittingly  gave 

To  the  House  of  Assembly  offence  ; 
And  were  both  sent  to  jail  to  learn  how  to  behave, 

And  there  kept  at  the  public  expense. 

V. 

Nor  how  in  the  Government  coach  they  were  brought 

To  the  House,  to  receive  from  their  betters, 
A  lecture  in  which  they  were  forcibly  taught 
-  -^To  write  no  more  fault-finding  letters  ! 

How  the  House  took  the  question  in  hand  the  next  day, 

And  thoroughly  sifted  the  case ; 
Which  resulted  in  turning  Clarke  out  of  the  way, 

That  Clinch  might  be  put  in  his  place. 

How  Brown  was  dismiss'  ^ ,  and  desired  to  attend 

Again  at  the  following  session  ; 
And  McKay  had  due  notice,  the  seat  to  defend 

Of  which  he  held  doubtful  possession. 

But  the  parties  themselves  soon  adopted  the  plan 

Suggested  by  fair  common  sense ; 
They  mot,  and  their  papers  did  carefully  scan, 

Agreed,  and  saved  lurther  expense. 


I 


.^    •    '-W^ 


aiWaSWiSfc, 


7«F^mP 


r^ 


)i 


,^.- 


48  EAELY    EElLlNISCENCES. 

How  Clinch  brought  the  Sheriff  before  the  high  court 

For  a  false  and  malicious  transaction, 
And  two  thousand  dollars  he  paid  for  the  sport, 

Before  he  could  make  satisfaction. 

How  the  HoKse  was  dissolved  by  the  death  of  the  king, 

And  all  of  its  members  unseated ; 
And  ten  goodly  candidates  enter'd  the  ring. 

When  the  process  again  was  repeated. 

Some  dash'd  through  the  contest,  despising  control. 

While  others  would  fake ;  and  flinch  ; 
But  forty  ahead,  at  the  close  of  the  poll, 

Stood  the  names  of  our  friends,  Brown  and  Clinch ! 

Brown,  Clinch,  Hill,  and  Wyer,  in  order  as  plac'd. 

Were  declared  to  be  duly  elected  ; 
And  six  of  the  ten  to  the  left  about  fac'd — 

Even  Campbell  himself  was  rejected.  "   - 


^ 


'»ft»  ■*' 


MI' ^KLLA  NEGUS   ITEMS — CONCLUSION. 


^ut  t'  ■     '•eminisccnces,  dear  to  us  both, 

1.    .  lime  I  should  bring  to  a  close ; 
For  my  letter's  attained  an  inordinate  growth, 

And  my  muse  importunes  for  repose. 

Other  incidents,  still,  on  the  memory  crowd. 
Each  seeming  to  claim  my  attention  ;  ^ 

But  tliose  must  be  dealt  witban-  some  other  mode— 
Though  perhaps  one  or^o  I  wilj  piention. 

And  first  the  "  Revival "  which  spread  through  the  place, 

With  never  a  Parson  to  miiut  it ;. 
And  vent,  as  it  came,  without  leaving  a  trace, 

Or  of  good  or  of  evil  behind  it.* 


0 


*  Tliia  roliKii'us  nwnkeiiinpr  n-as  unique.  It  broke  nut  nl  n  time  when  no  clcrgy- 
mnn  was  near  tlio  plnc-o,  nml  wiicn  no  preHcliiiiK  li"'l  t'lf-NrriMl  for  a  Umg  pr-riod. 
It  rapidly  Bprend  llirouKJi  tlio  uoighborliood,  cinbrncin^  muw  of  its  niowt  respectable 
citizeiiH;  wuh  nUended  with  all  tlie  usual  plieiioniena  of  HtvivtUi  or  Ucpmnntions, 
and  3ontinued  nearly  a  year,  when  it  died  away,  lonving  no  traces  of  its  eflects; 

— „  ^1. .■!•;.!.  i.vaa  fisrisseti uo  L'ttBtlfima i!o  LTosichi'itTi  except  by  occflHionol  ititicrants, 

but  society  tjuietly  returaod  to  its  former  "condition. 


\ 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 


49 


'\/ 


And  the  visits  the  converts  so  frequently  made 
To  their  brethren,  and  theirs  in  return — 

For  each  to  the  other  gave  mutual  aid 

When  "  of  mind  they  were  under  concern." 


r^ 


iff 


And  the  shouts  through  the  woods  which  were  constantly 
ringiiiii; 

With  voices  fro  i  grotto  and  shade ; 
While  vocal  with  praying,  exhorting,  and  singing, 

The  fields  and  the  forests  were  made. 

And  next,  the  great  fire,  occurring  one  morn, 

As  we  to  our  breakfiists  were  going  ; 
Which  doomed  ^to  destruction  our  spacious  old  barn, 

Just  filled  from  the  farm  to  o'erflowing. 

And  the  martyr-like  death  of  the  "  invalid  "  steer. 

Whose  fate  al!  our  sympathy  claims ; 
Whose  agony  drew  from  us  many  a  tear  ' 

As  he  writhed  in  the  merciless  flames.* 


^■ 


And  how,  near  the  spot  where  the  old  barn  stood, 
Phoenix-like,  rose  a  new  in  its  place, 

And  how  at  the  raising^  in  right  merry  mood, 
It  was  christened  from  summit  to  base.f 


\ 


■^ 


w 


And  true  to  the  custom  which  deemed  it  no  crime 
To  drink  and  to  dance  through  the  night ; 

How  the  men,  one  and  all,  had  a  jolly  good  time, 
Though  disturbed,  now  and  then,  by  a  fight. 


I  last, 


jind  last,  thouffh  not  leaHt,,ray  unfortunate  ride 

'On  the  road  leading  up  fro'uL  Oak  Bay, 
When  I  foil  in  a  snowbank  an*  there  would  have  died 

But  for  Dickie,  who  j)a88ing  that  way, 

Put  me  on  to  his  sled  with  his  bags  of  corn-meal, 

And  drove  ipo  to  old  Buzzy^a  door  ; 
The  warnith  of  whose  fire  I  was  soon  made  to  feel 

As  I  lay  at  full  length  on  the  floor.  ■» 


?rgy- 
riod. 
tablo 
Uons, . 
octB ; 

■'llltB. 


•  Thin  poor  RDlmal  waa  Uurned  to  death  while  tied  in  liis  stnll.  where  he  had 
boon  placed  only  a  few  mimites  bt-foro  the  fire  broke  out. 

f  This  chriskning  eonHlsled  in  brcalviiig  "  bov..t»  of  ruiA  on  the  iidge-pole  after 
the  buiiding  had,  acoaraing  to  the  cusU  i;  of  iho  coaatgr,  fccciTC-i  its  ijams. 


I 


50.,; 


EARLY    REMINISCENCES. 


jp.*» 


,     p-ta'  regard  to  this  ride  other  facts  I  could.tell 

--2'*^!'_       •■■     That  \yquld  give  it  a  Uttle. more  zest; 


«.  ft** 


.p. .  •.  But  fof  Reasons  fo  you  that  are  known  very  Wl, 
•  ;r  ^ouHl  agree-that  it  wouldn'/t  be  best.* 


^ 


L  ur  Brother,  my  rambling  letter  is  done—  , 

It  is  longer  than  I  had  intended  ; 
But  subjects  increased  after  once  I  begun 

Till  it  seemed  they  would  never  be  ended. 

If  like  me  you  dwell  much  on  the  days  of  our  youth, 

And  their  r  .mory  carefully  treasure. 
In  what  I  have  written  you'll  recognise  truths 

And  I  hope  it  may  give  you  some  pleasure. 

Jj.  S. 


»  For  the  same  reason  thej  are  withheld  fron\  publication. 


i1 


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V<3>  (>«        >«i^>C;  ^ 


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